


Collateral Vessel

by TheBasilRathbone



Series: Pacemaker [7]
Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Adoption, Alec and Ellie Are Already Together, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Domestic, F/M, Family, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24384031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBasilRathbone/pseuds/TheBasilRathbone
Summary: Just when things are starting to approach a new normal, just when a light is starting to appear at the end of the tunnel, Joe Miller drops himself back into their lives to wreck havoc.Alec, with little fuss or circumstance, quietly cements himself as the husband and father that Joe never was.
Relationships: Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Series: Pacemaker [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652722
Comments: 25
Kudos: 188





	Collateral Vessel

In his defence, he probably shouldn’t have shown up to a police interview high as a fucking kite.

Was that a defence? Didn’t really seem like one, looking back on it. Maybe the opposite.

The cops didn’t care, anyways, they would have hated him however he showed up. They started at him, looking bored, like they’d already bloody well made up their mind about him.

“You were caught red-handed,” the scrawny, Scottish detective drawled. “Bolt cutters, a torch, an’ a black face mask. Burglary starter kit, right there.”

“So?” he replied, trying not to blink too slow. Or too fast. That would give him away. He really shouldn’t have gotten high before this.

“So, you had all the gear to rob a flat, were seen at an address that wasn’t your own, an’ have no reasonable explanation as to why you were there. Where were you on the night of November 13th?”

“Dunno.”

“And December 22nd?”

“Dunno.”

“January 9th?”

“How the fuck should I know?” he spat, slumping down in his chair.

“Because those are the nights we have on record of robberies occurring with a very similar M.O. you were using the night you were picked up. Talk all you want, we know you’re guilty of that. I’m just interested in what you were doing all of those other nights.”

“At home. Always at home. Ask my wife, she’ll back me up.”

“We did,” the female detective replied, piping up for the first time. The Scottish bloke just looked bored, but she was annoyed and didn’t make any effort to hide it. “She told us you were out during the time the most recent burglary happened. Didn’t even try to cover for you.”

Fucking bitch. “She’s just tryin’ to get me in trouble. You got a wife, yeah?” he said to the bloke detective, nodding towards the gold ring on his finger.

The man didn’t even flinch. “I do.”

“Then you know what it’s like. Had a fight, wife’s bein’ a bitch, tries to get you in trouble.”

“No. Matter of fact, my wife has never tried to suggest to the police that I committed a crime I was innocent of after a row.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Not literally.” Idiot. “I’m just sayin’ they’re difficult, yeah? Who the fuck knows why they do what they do?”

“‘They?’”

“Women,” he snorted, then looked at the female detective. “No offence.”

“Yeah, none taken,” she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

He’d tried to flirt with her, earlier, and had gotten no where. He’d pretty much given up trying to impress her.

He turned his attention back to the male detective. “I’m just sayin’. My wife’s a liar. You can’t prove that I _wasn’t_ home.”

“No?” the bloke asked, reaching into the folder at his elbow and producing a small stack of photographs. “Why don’ we look at these next, then?”

“For the tape,” the woman detective announced, “DI Hardy has produced fourteen photographs taken from CCTV cameras from the night of December 22.”

The bloke slid the first photograph towards him. “If you were home that night, you want to tell me why yer car was pictured in the car park across the street from the shop that was robbed?”

* * *

“That’s a new one,” Ellie snorted, leaning against the doorframe of his office as he packed up his bag. “Never had a suspect use ‘my wife is a bitch’ as an alibi, before.”

“Kept waitin’ for him to demand his lawyer, but he just wouldn’ shut up,”Alec agreed, sweeping the folders from his desk and dropping them into his briefcase. “Who gets high before a scheduled police interview? What the hell was he thinkin’?”

“He wasn’t, that was the point,” she scoffed. “And the flirting, talking about your bitchy wife? Did he not put two and two together as soon as we introduced ourselves as DI Hardy and DS Hardy?”

“He was high as a kite, I’m surprised he remembered his own name. He jus’ kept diggin’ himself deeper. Not that I’m complainin’, means we all get to go home sooner.”

“Home to your bitch of a wife, always tryin’ to get you into trouble,” she joked, pleased with herself when he smirked.

“Wouldn’ even blame that man’s wife, if she lied to get him arrested.”

“Christ, no. I wouldn’t want that around the house, either.”

He raised a brow. “Should I be concerned after all, my wife gettin’ me arrested after a row?”

“And have to start cooking dinner every night again? Not bloody likely.”

He grunted. “Nice to know I’m appreciated.”

“We’ve got tomorrow off. I can appreciate you as many times as you like, tonight.”

Alec shot her an unimpressed look, though she could tell he was desperately fighting a smile. “We are still at work. Keep it professional, Hardy.”

“Sorry, Hardy. Won’t happen again, Sir.”

They grinned.

Ellie took the driver’s seat, Alec tossing his briefcase in the back before climbing in beside her. “Think we’ll avoid any more of Fred’s interrogation tonight?”

She groaned. “Probably not.”

“Tom hasn’ talked to you about it?”

“No. And Freddie’s not helping by pushing. I don’t know what to do. He’s long past trying to defend Joe, but…he was still his dad. If you adopt him and he takes your name, it’s the final nail in the coffin of that relationship, you know? I don’t know if Tom’s quite ready for that, yet.”

“I know,” he soothed, resting his hand on Ellie’s leg.

“Maybe we should just go through with Fred’s. If we’re letting Tom choose his name, we should let Fred do the same. I was just hoping that Tom would change his mind and you could adopt them both together. I hate the thought of Tom being the only Miller left, I don’t want him to feel like he’s been left behind, or that he isn’t a part of this. Or that he’s somehow siding with Joe by not wanting to be adopted by you. Maybe I shouldn’t have changed my name.”

“Ellie. Tom told you it was alright. He encouraged you to change your name, if you wanted to. He understands that not bein’ a Miller anymore isn’t about him, it’s about Joe. Fred’s adoption hearing might be a bit hard on him, but yer right. They both have a right to choose. You can’ give Tom the option and not Fred.”

She sighed. “So we should just book the hearing, is what you’re saying.”

“I think we should try to reign in Fred and talk to Tom once more to get a sense of what he’s thinkin’.”

Her hand drifted briefly from the gear stick to entwine their fingers, squeezing gently. “Alright. You’re right. No need to rush things. Just wish either both of them wanted it or neither of them did. Would be a lot easier.”

“Then they’d actually have to agree on something.”

“Daisy never should have gone away to uni,” Ellie sighed mournfully. “We need someone here to keep the peace.”

Despite his general disinterest in most things parent-related, Tom suspiciously greeted them at the door as soon as they entered the house, looking uncharacteristically skittish. 

“We got some mail today," he blurted the moment Ellie crossed the threshold. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Clearing his throat, Tom thrust an envelope out towards Ellie, hand trembling as he waited for her to remove her jacket and take it from him. Alec watched tension ripple up her back, her whole body freezing.

“El?” he asked as she picked up the paper with shaking hands. “What is it?”

“It’s…a Visiting Order,” Tom supplied. “From Belmarsh Prison.”

“Belmarsh? Joe?” He asked, approaching her carefully and resting a hand between her shoulder blades. “He’s requested you visit him before, hasn’t he?”

“But that one’s addressed to me,” Tom offered for her.

Oh, fuck.

“How fucking dare he,” Ellie seethed. “How _fucking_ dare he contact you? He’s sent me VOs before, I ignore them. Figured he’d put that together. Who the fuck does he think he is, sending one to you? He knows…All the bloody hoops I had to jump through to have his parental rights terminated, and now he does this.”

“I want to go,” Tom said bluntly, posture straightening. Preparing for a fight, undoubtedly.

“Absolutely not.”

“He asked me to go, I want to go.”

Ellie thrust the envelope back at him, as if she couldn’t bear to touch it any longer. “No. End of discussion.”

“No, not ‘end of discussion.’ I’m almost eighteen, you can’t make these decisions for me anymore!”

“ _Almost_ eighteen,” Ellie shouted back. “That’s the key word there, Tom. If you’re under eighteen, you need me to go with you or my permission to visit an inmate, neither of which you’re getting. Is Joe really stupid enough to think that I would just willingly come with you?”

“That isn’t fair! You make all that fuss about me being able to make my own choices about Alec adopting me and who my father is, but you won’t let me do this? So I can make choices as long as you approve of them? That’s so fucking hypocritical!”

“Don’t talk to me like that. Tom, get back here!” she demanded, but he was already stomping up the steps. A few seconds later, the sound of a slamming door and then blaring music. Ellie let out a sharp puff of air, pinching the bridge of her nose as if to dispel a headache.

“El,” Alec soothed, reaching out to pull her into his arms. They hadn’t even made it out of the entryway before all of this hit, still in their shoes, Ellie’s coat still hanging off one shoulder. “Ellie, if…if one of the bigger objections you have to this is not wantin’ to go with Tom to see Joe, I’ll take ‘im.”

“Seriously? You’re okay with him going to visit a sex offender in prison?”

He sighed. “Not thrilled at the idea, no. But he hasn’ seen his dad since he was sentenced in court. If the boy’s curious…maybe we need to indulge ‘im. Maybe this might be the closure he needs to move on from Joe. Help him decide about the adoption.”

“And what if it does the exact opposite? What if he comes back sympathizing with his father, or thinking he’s innocent?”

“Give ‘im some credit, El. Danny was Tom’s best friend, he knows Joe did it. An’ I’ll be there the whole time. If he’s bein’ manipulative or tellin’ lies, I’ll intervene.”

“I can’t believe I’m even considering this.”

“Ellie," he soothed, reaching out cautiously as one might approach an open flame. "If Joe is tryin’ to get to Tom and manipulate ‘im, wouldn’ you rather it be with me there makin’ sure things stay on course? Because eight months from now, Tom’ll be eighteen, an’ he’ll go alone. An’ we’ll not be there to protect ‘im, then. At least if we take Tom now we still have some semblance of control over this.”

Ellie looked murderous. Her _I hate it when you’re right_ face. It was a look he knew well, although not nearly as well as he would have liked.

* * *

Tom, somehow, managed to keep a neutral expression as Joe was shuffled out into the visitor’s hall.

They’d signed paperwork, been patted down, herded through metal detectors, and given a monotonous lecture on the rules and what was to be expected.

They stuffed their belongings into the visitor’s lockers and were all let into the visitor’s centre, taken to their seats. Tom’s nervousness, however, evaporated as Joe appeared before them.

Alec had only seen him from photographs. Smiling brightly, his arms around Ellie, around the boys. He certainly wasn’t smiling now. He looked remarkably unchanged, despite his nervous, cagey expression. It seemed nearly impossible that this man could be capable of strangling a child to death and dumping his body like he was tossing away rubbish.

“Tom,” Joe choked, sinking down in his chair. “God, look at you. Look how big you’ve gotten.” He smiled, doe-eyed, sliding his hands across the table towards him.

“No no no,” Alec intercepted, moving a protective arm in front of Tom. “Don’t touch him.”

Joe’s eyes flickered to him, as if he hadn’t even been aware of his presence until now. “Who are you?”

“Tom is a minor. The law requires that in order for ‘im to visit, he be accompanied by an adult,” Alec stated emotionlessly. He’d stick to the facts, Tom could clarify as he saw fit. They both stayed there, a battle of the wills, neither one breaking eye contact. When Joe finally recoiled, pulling his hands back to his side, Alec released his hold on Tom and settled back into his chair.

Joe had the gall to look offended. “He’s my _son_.”

“And yer not to touch ‘im,” Alec reaffirmed.

With one last hard stare, Joe turned back to Tom. “I’m sorry, for having to send you a Visitor’s Order. I knew…I knew your mum wouldn’t bring you. God, I’ve missed you so much, Tom.”

Tom said nothing, crossing his arms over his chest and sinking down into his chair as though assessing Joe from across the table.

“How...how have you been?” Joe stammered, beginning to fidget. “How’s Fred?”

“Fine,” Tom replied with a shrug. “Fred’s good.”

“And your mum?”

“Mum’s _great,_ ” he replied, his tone almost a challenge. Alec hadn’t expected this. He wasn’t sure of Tom’s motives in coming here, but it only grew less clear as time went on. He’d gone through all the effort of fighting with Ellie, demanding to come today, being poked and prodded and shuffled through all of the prison’s security measures, and then seemed entirely uninterested in participating in a discussion with Joe.

“Good,” Joe replied, growing nervous again. “That’s good. W…well, tell me about yourself. I haven’t heard anything. You must be thinking about uni, soon.”

“I want to be a detective,” Tom informed him unenthusiastically. Alec watched Joe’s expression shift nervously.

“O…oh? Just like your mum, she’ll like that.”

“And Alec,” Tom replied, gesturing towards him.

“He’s a detective?”

“He’s the DI at Broadchurch.”

Joe shook his head, teary-eyed. “Tom, I’m your father. You didn’t need a…police escort to visit me. Did your mother demand that?”

“Alec isn’t a police escort.”

Tom offered nothing more than that, and Joe seemed to be debating about whether to ask any follow-up questions, given the boy’s clipped tone.

“You wanna know why I agreed to see you?” Tom asked, arms still crossed firmly over his chest. “‘Cause Fred’s seven now. And I was thinking about him, and how in a few years he’ll be the same age Danny was when you killed him. Four years isn’t a long time.”

“Tom.” Alec watched perspiration break out on Joe’s forehead, watched his larynx bob as he swallowed.

“Didn’t feel that young, when I was eleven. How would you feel, if someone strangled Freddie to death? If some paedophile started…started grooming him the way you groomed Danny?”

Joe shivered. “It wasn’t like that.”

“It was, though.”

“Tom…whatever your mother’s told you-“

Tom scoffed. “You don’t think I know how to use the internet? You don’t think I can google what happened by myself? Mum doesn’t talk about you. None of us do. We’d have to give a shit about you to talk about you, and to be honest, you’re just not that important.”

Alec fought to keep his expression neutral, but Christ, he was proud. Proud of Tom’s power over the situation, his level-headedness. He was a master at this, never letting his control slip. They’d been worried about him when he’d said he wanted to be a detective. It was a tough job, they knew that well. Long hours, emotionally draining, sometimes dangerous. But Alec knew in that moment there’d never be a finer one.

“Tom, it was a horrible mistake. I never would have-“

“A mistake? What would’ve happened when Dan put an end to it? Even if he hadn’t threatened to tell? If you hadn’t killed him? You would’ve moved on to someone else. Another one of my friends. Or Freddie’s friends. Or Freddie.”

Joe let out a horrified, raspy breath. “N…no. I never would have…it wasn’t like that, Tom. You and Fred…you’re my boys.”

“We’re really not,” Tom replied in a bored tone. “What exactly do you think you are to us, anymore, locked away in here for doing what you did? You think Mum thinks of you as a husband anymore? That we think of you as our dad? You’re not a role model. _Obviously_. You don’t take care of us.”

“I made one mistake, Tom,” Joe pleaded. “That doesn’t erase everything else. I watched your birth. I rocked you to sleep. Went to every football match, every school play. I was a good dad. I loved you, loved your mum-“

“One mistake?” Tom repeated. “You gave Dan money. A secret phone. A secret email account. You sent him texts. Emails. Met with him again and again. You could have stopped at any time. Killing Danny wasn’t your one mistake, it was just the biggest of many. And yeah, you were there for us. You did some good things. That doesn’t make you a good dad. Good dads don’t murder their son’s best friends. We don’t need you coming to our football matches and school plays, already got someone for that.”

“Your…mum, you mean?”

Tom slouched further in his chair. “Fred calls him ‘Dad,’ you know.”

“W…who?”

“Alec,” Tom replied, gesturing with his head. “‘My mummy and daddy are detectives.’ That’s what he wrote on his dumb little project, when they had to talk about their families at school. Mum and Alec got married, by the way.”

Joe’s gaze snapped to Alec. He always looked wide-eyed and startled, as if he was constantly bewildered. As if he didn’t have any idea how this all had happened to him. Alec didn’t allow himself to so much as blink, despite being dropped into the middle of the conversation so suddenly. Tom was breezing right through this, the least he could do was maintain a mask of indifference. He forced himself to keep still as Joe’s gaze slid down to his wedding ring.

“You’re…?”

“Alec taught Freddie how to tie his shoes. How to make his bed. Alec’s been helping me fill out my training applications. Do you even realize how much you’re missing?”

“Of course I do,” Joe sputtered, teary-eyed. “Of course I do. God, Tom. I miss you both. Every single day. Every minute.”

“Do you?” Tom asked casually, raising a brow. “Not as much as the Latimers miss Danny, I bet.”

It’s a cold fucking blow, and he delivered it with the same chilling ease that he had seen Ellie wield with a particularly difficult perp. Thank Christ Ellie was a cop, he’d often thought, because she’d be a ruthless fucking criminal if she wanted to be. Joe was left stunned, not even able to make enough noise to stammer.

Tom sighed. “You’re selfish. At the end of the day, you’re selfish. You can’t be a good dad and be selfish. You just can’t. I don’t owe you anything. Not anymore. None of us do. Stop sending Mum VOs. Stop contacting her at all, she wants nothing to do with you.”

“Tom,” Joe stuttered desperately, leaning forward in his chair. “Tom, I know you’re angry with me. I know this is difficult, but you need your father.”

“Already got one, thanks.”

“Tom-“

“What do we need you for, exactly?” Tom asked casually. “No, seriously. You said we need you. What do we need you for? Mum and Alec take care of us. Feed us, help us with our homework, spend time with us. Alec does the lads and dads football shit with us. And Mum is...Mum, just like always. So what exactly is it that we need you for? Not trying to be an arse to you, I’m genuinely asking.”

When Joe could only gape, bewildered, Tom kept on.

“Look, we don’t need you. Mum married someone else, she’s happy. We all are. You reaching out under the excuse of us ‘needing’ you? I’m telling you now, we don’t. So if you keep trying to contact us, keep trying to send Mum requests to visit you in prison, you’re doing it now knowing it isn’t for us, it’s for you. Which is selfish. Because whenever Mum gets a letter from you, it makes her day a little bit worse. But only a little bit. Like I said, you’re not that important.”

Alec wasn’t sure if Joe was about to burst into tears or fly into a rage. He looked stunned, absolutely shattered. Alec buried down any imaginings of what it would be like for Daisy to sit across from him and say the things that Tom had just said to Joe. He couldn’t survive it. This was it, this was his worst nightmare. This is what he used to lie awake fearing, when he and Tess divorced and Daisy refused to take his calls. _I don’t need you, you’re not a father, you’re not important._ It was almost enough to make him feel sorry for Joe. Almost.

“Alec’s adopting me,” Tom said cooly. “Me and Fred. Just wanted to let you know, in case you’re still thinking about sending me another Visiting Order. You’ll have to address them to ‘Thomas Hardy’ from now on.” Tom slid back his chair pointedly and stood, so abruptly that Alec had to scramble up after him. “I’m ready to go.”

“Alright, Lad.” Instinctively, Alec reached out to squeeze Tom’s shoulder as they turned to leave.

The scraping of chair legs against laminate floor surprised them all, Alec stepping in front of Tom to shield him as they turned, the prison guards scrambling across the room to grab Joe, though he’d hadn’t moved forward since getting abruptly to his feet. He only stared at them, fists clenched by his sides.

“You’re not his father!” Joe spat, eyes wild, face turning red in rage. He tilted his chin downwards, nostrils flaring, and for the first time, Alec could see it. Could see the man who was capable of murdering Danny Latimer.

There he stood, a guard on either side of him, in his prison jumpsuit. He could hiss and spit all he liked, he could do nothing more to Ellie and her boys.

Alec leaned forward, voice dropping low. “I should be so lucky,” he snarled, “to call Tom my son. An’ I promise you now that I will _not_ fuck it up like you did.”

When he turned, Tom did too, and Alec clapped a hand on his shoulder as they departed the visitor’s centre, neither one of them bothering to look back.

The bright sunshine was nearly blinding as the two of them staggered out into the open air. Alec felt a bit like he was in shock himself. Whatever he had been expecting today, it hadn’t been that.

He turned to Tom, catching sight of the firm set of his jaw, the upward tilt of his chin. Pride. And defiance. He’d gone into the belly of the beast and come out unscathed.

Surprisingly, when he grabbed for Tom and brought him in for a hug, the teenager didn’t even protest. He wrapped his own arms around Alec's waist, squeezing him tightly, face pressed into his shoulder. 

“I’m so bloody proud of you,” Alec said gruffly, patting Tom firmly on the back before pulling away, just far enough to assess him.

Tom’s expression had softened, his posture relaxed, like he was no longer spoiling for a fight.

It was done. They’d walked out of Joe Miller’s life.

“Right then,” he said, clapping Tom on the shoulder and then gesturing to the car. “Lunch.”

* * *

“You alright, Lad?”

They’d stopped at a small pub along the roadside on their way back to Broadchurch, neither one of them quite ready to face Ellie’s loving but intense interrogation about how the visit went. They understood one another, he and Tom, or so Alec liked to think.

“Yeah. Think so,” he mumbled, taking a far-too-large bite of his burger. “Didn’t really know what to expect. What it would be like, seeing him again.”

Alec nodded. “Didn’ know what to expect myself. Had only ever seen photos of him. Yer mum’s and the ones in the papers.”

“And?” Tom asked. “What did you think?”

“Thought he seemed…cowardly,” Alec confessed. He didn’t want to rip Tom’s father to shreds in front of him, but Tom had grown into a young man who wanted honesty over a nice story, and Alec could give him that. “I still don’ think he takes full responsibility for what happened with Danny. He feels sorry for himself.”

Tom nodded. “He’s a bit pathetic, isn’t he?” At Alec’s raised brow, he continued. “I just wanted to see. To visit him, see how I’d feel, after all this time. I defended him on the stand, did Mum tell you? I lied for him. I wanted to protect him. I couldn’t believe my dad would do something like that. But seeing him today…he didn’t feel like my dad. Like he was…connected to me, you know? I just looked at him and barely felt anything at all. I mean, sad for how much he hurt us, angry about what he did to Danny, to all of us, but not…I didn’t feel anything _for_ him, you know?”

“Yeah,” Alec acknowledged. “I get that.”

“Mum told me once that I’m allowed to miss him. That I’m allowed to…grieve over him. Because we’re not really grieving him, we’re grieving…who we thought he was. Who we wanted him to be. Even if that’s not who he was, in the end.”

“Wise woman, yer mother,” Alec agreed. “Don’ tell ‘er I said that, though. It’ll go straight to ‘er head.”

Tom smirked at that, though his smug expression quickly faded. “I guess I just…wanted to make sure. That he really wasn’t who I thought he was.”

“Tom…it wasn’t easy goin’ in there and doin’ what you did. And what you said, about me adoptin’ you…I’ll always want to, that door is always open. But I want you to know that you can change your mind. Just ‘cause you said it durin’ a heated moment doesn’t mean that I expect you to follow through. And whether or not we have the same last name doesn’ change a thing between us."

“Must matter a bit, if you want to go through all the effort of adopting us at all,” Tom pointed out. “You’re basically our dad at this point, anyways, even without the adoption part.”

Alec pushed away his barely-eaten plate of food, trying not to let it show how much those words meant to him. _You’re basically our dad at this point, anyways._ “It’s a formality, I s’pose. But yer right, it does mean somethin’. Sort of like…me and yer mum gettin’ married. There’s somethin’...comforting about it. A...declaration that we’re not just gonna up an’ run when things get hard. But it doesn’ have to change things. You don’ have to call me ‘dad’ like Fred does, I don’ expect anythin’ more from you than what we’re already doin’ now.”

“I know,” he said. “Was it Mum’s idea to adopt us or yours?”

“Your mum brought it up first,” Alec confessed. “But I didn’ hesitate to say yes. But we both agreed that it would be up to the two o’ you if you wanted to do it.”

Tom nodded. “I know Fred really wants to. And it would mean a lot to Mum. And…you, too.

“It’s not about us,” Alec insisted. “This is about you. It’s yer name, yer family.”

“But…I don’t care,” he replied. “I mean…I’d have to get used to it, the new name part but…I don’t care about being ‘Miller’ anymore. I’m not just saying that. He’s not my dad, not really. But I know you guys want it, and Fred really wants it, so…so if I really, genuinely don’t care and it would make everyone else happy, why not? It doesn’t take anything important away from me.”

He’d give Tom a hug, if he didn’t think the teenager would shove him off in embarrassment. They were in public, now. “That’s a good way to look at it. But only if you’re sure. It’s not about…erasin’ Joe out of your lives, or coverin’ anythin’ up. There’s no shame in keepin’ it, if you want to."

“I know,” he replied with a huff, rolling his eyes. Clearly they had drilled that particular point home well enough. “It was Fred’s shitty little nativity play, you know. Why I wanted to come today.”

Alec pointedly ignored the bad language. “What d’you mean?”

“His stupid little Christmas play thing. A couple of years ago. He was a sheep. You and Mum were there. You were late, but you came. And I remember thinking about how sad my dad would be to miss it, he always loved dumb, cheesy stuff like that. And I thought about how much he must regret what he did, when he has to miss out on stuff like this. And then I thought…he knew it was wrong, when he was doing it. That’s when I stopped caring. Stopped thinking about if he would do it differently, if he had made different choices, then maybe he would still be around, you know? I stopped feeling any sympathy at all. He knew exactly what he was risking in doing what he did, even if he didn’t know the full consequences. Losing all of us…he was willing to risk that. So I don’t need to feel sorry for him missing out on seeing Fred in a dumb little sheep costume because you don’t…you don’t risk things you’re not willing to lose. And obviously he was willing to lose us. So fuck ‘im.”

Alec tried to repress the smirk threatening to break over his face. It wasn’t a funny revelation by any means, but he certainly had the startlingly wise epiphanies of his mother. “No, yer right,” he agreed, thinking of Tess. “You don’t risk things yer not willin’ to lose. Was proud of you, today. The way you handled that. Kept yer composure, didn’ let ‘im rattle you.”

Tom shrugged, embarrassed by the praise.

“Really, Tom. It was damn impressive. You’ll make a fine detective, bein’ that level-headed.”

That seemed to perk him up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Should be proud of yourself. The way you stood up for not just yourself but for Fred. For your Mum. She’d be so bloody proud of you.”

“Ugh, you’re not going to tell her about it all, will you? She’ll get all emotional about it.”

Alec tried not to smile. “You know yer mum. I can vow to keep my mouth shut, but she always has a way of wearin’ you down until you just confess everythin’.”

“She really does. Hate that about her.”

“Wish I could, but it really comes in handy when yer interviewin’ a suspect. Is there anythin’ you don’ want me to tell ‘er? Anythin’ that happened today that yer not ready for ‘er to know?”

Tom thought for a long moment before shaking his head. “No. Not really, I just…don’t want to be the one to tell her. I don’t want to talk about him again. I’m sick of always talking about him. He doesn’t matter anymore.”

Something warm and strong flooded his heart. “She’s goin’ to want to talk to you. But I can fill ‘er in on the details. Yer…a good man, Tom. Don’ forget that.”

When they arrived home, Ellie was predictably waiting for them at the door, undoubtedly pacing the front hall for far longer than she would care to admit. The moment they stepped inside, she pulled Tom into a hug.

"How did it go?” she asked, pulling away enough to meet Tom’s gaze.

“It was fine, Mum.”

“Did-“

“C’mon,” Alec said, gesturing back towards the door he’d just entered. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“What, now?”

“El,” he said gently but firmly. “C’mon.”

He caught sight of Tom’s grateful look and nodded, letting the boy make his escape upstairs while Ellie pulled on her coat and shoes.

Alec would relay to her all of the details, every minute expression and breath and word to sate Ellie’s curiosity without forcing Tom to relieve it all again. Later, with all of her questions answered and her nervous energy walked out during their stroll around Broadchurch, Ellie could check up on him and ensure he was okay, could focus solely on giving Tom what he needed out of the conversation without any of her own motives causing her to push him.

They would all sit down together that night for dinner as a family, Joe inevitably on their minds but none of them bringing him up. Because Tom was right, in the end. He just wasn’t that important.

* * *

When the hearing was finally scheduled, it happened to fall two days after Alec’s birthday.

Whenever Fred excitedly asked him what he wanted for his birthday, he was quick to reply “two sons,” which never failed to make the boy beam (it was also a wonderful deflection, as he was a grown man with a comfortable job, what sort of gift could he possibly want?).

They picked the boys up from school and Daisy from the train station, changing into their formalwear in the loo at the courthouse.

Tom and Fred granted their permission for the hearing to proceed, and Alec was sworn in before vowing to provide them both with a safe, loving home. Fred, much to his delight, was allowed to bang the gavel.

Ellie held back tears, forcing them to endure endless photos. The ink wasn’t yet dry on the adoption decree, but ‘Miller’ had already been wiped clean from their lives.

On the way back from the restaurant, Daisy insisted on making a detour on her own, a mischievous smile on her face. She promised them all that she would be back soon and set off down the street. An hour later, upon arriving home, she dropped with flourish onto the kitchen table in front of them a little cake from the local bakery, _Congratulations, Hardys!_ written across the top in bold frosting.

“Happy Hardy Day!” Daisy cheered, throwing one arm around Alec and one around Fred, kissing both their cheeks. “It’s officially an all-Hardy household, now. Welcome to the club.”

“Oh, Daisy,” Ellie sniffed, tears in her eyes. “This is so sweet.”

“ _Vanilla_ cake?” Tom complained, wrinkling his nose.

Daisy shot him an unimpressed look. “Sorry, I meant to get you a separate, chocolate one that said ‘ _You’re stuck with me now, Bitch’_ in frosting on the top.”

Alec scolded her, but Tom only smirked.

“University has made you bitchier.”

“No, the adoption has made me bitchier. ‘Cause now I can say whatever I want to you and you can’t do anything about it,” Daisy shot back. “Welcome to hell, Hardy.”

* * *

“How does it feel, being a father of three?” Ellie asked when he climbed into bed beside her that night.

“More or less the same as this morning,” he replied, crawling right into her open arms, sighing as she stroked his hair.

“Liar. I saw a little tear in your eye in court today.”

He huffed, though they both knew it was true. He had long since cared for Fred and Tom, but something had shifted, today. They were tied just a little bit tighter together, now. “Yeah, well. Don’ go ‘round tellin’ anyone that.”

“God forbid someone thinks you’re not a grumpy arsehole.”

She pressed her lips against the top of his head, and Alec melted further against her. Truth be told, he didn’t think he’d ever have this ever again, either. Have a wife to crawl into bed with at the end of the day, have a loving pair of arms around him. Immediately after the divorce, he had assumed that maybe, eventually, he’d move on, but after his heart condition developed, he’d very quickly come to terms with the idea that he would likely die without ever feeling this again. He would die, and despite some mourning by Daisy for the father she had barely spoken to in years, the world would barely notice he was gone.

They all bickered, and got on one another’s nerves, and sometimes could barely stand to be under one roof, and it was all so horribly domestic that it healed just another small piece of Alec’s weary heart, not that he’d ever confess to something so sappy.

“You’re going soft in your old age,” she taunted gently, though the feeling of her fingers scratching against his scalp distracted him from any snarky response he might have thought up. He could only turn his head and bite gently into her shoulder, grinning as she tugged at his hair. “Oi.”

“You started it.”

It wasn’t easy, as pleasant as it could be. Two personalities as strong as theirs were bound to clash, not to mention their own fucked up pasts. Ellie couldn’t bear secrets after what Joe had done, and wanted to talk everything through to a degree that drove him mad. And while Alec wasn’t the jealous type, his ex-wife’s affair had left him sensitive to infidelity. If someone flirted with Ellie, particularly right in front of him, he took it as a blatant display of their character, not being deterred by her evident relationship. And if they’d been bickering, or recently had a row, Alec had a tendency revert inwards, spiralling into a pit of insecurity, his mind an endless loop of all the reasons he had given Ellie to leave him. If he couldn’t pull himself out of it, Ellie could usually manage to coax him along, though between the kids and the jobs and the house, sometimes she just didn’t have the fucking energy.

But despite it all, they were well-suited in their damage. They both knew what it felt like to be at the end of one another’s scrutiny, and worked hard at their own ability to trust in response. They also knew to be generous with their reassurances, as they would undoubtedly need the same from the other, eventually.

Somehow, they were happy. And as healthy and functional as two fucked up people could be.

And Ellie really was good to him. In the breakdown of his marriage to Tess, when the relationship got messy and hard and hurtful, he’d nearly forgotten what that sort of grace felt like. They could have a screaming row that evening, but when he woke up retching and sobbing from a nightmare about Pippa, Ellie’s soothing hand would be there on his back, pulling him into her arms, rocking him back to sleep. She’d still be pissed off at him in the morning for whatever they’d yelled about the night before, but through all of it she would never turn him away when he needed her.

Alec reached over to turn off the lamp, stretching so as not to dislodge the warm hand Ellie had slid up under his t-shirt to rest on his stomach. Ellie was downright handsy when she was in a good mood. He loved that about her.

“Tom can play the disgruntled teenager all he likes, but I know today meant a lot to him,” Ellie murmured, curling up against his side. “To all of us.”

Always bad at these sorts of sentimental conversations, Alec fell silent, rubbing his hand up and down her back. “Means a lot to me, too,” he managed after a long moment.

“House full of Hardys, now.”

“God help us all.”

Ellie snorted. “Joke’s on you, you’re stuck with us now.”

“Joke’s not on me, with all the trouble I went to soyer all _legally_ stuck with me,” he countered, tugging gently on Ellie’s hair and grinning when it earned him a slap to the chest. “Careful with that heart, it’s in rough enough shape as it is.”

“Don’t lecture me on heart health, I’m the one who took care of that heart post-surgery after you _neglected to tell me you were having it._ ”

“Three years ago! An’ it all worked out in the end,” he dismissed, ignoring Ellie’s huff and disapproval.

“Easy for you to say, you didn’t have to nurse the world’s worst patient.”

“I wasn’ that bad,” he protested weakly.

“Oh, you really were.”

“Wasn’ bad enough to scare you off,” he sulked. “You still married me.”

Ellie made an appeasing cooing sound that only served to irritate him more before pressing a kiss against his cheek. “Poor Alec. Not enough to scare me away, no, but I don’t scare easily. Besides, you’ve gotten a lot better.”

“At being a patient?” he huffed.

“At letting someone take care of you,” she corrected, resting her head against the crook of his neck. “Honestly, I’m surprised you’re taking all of this so well.”

He raised a brow. “All o’ what?”

“All of this. Marriage, the adoption. An entire family of people that love you so much that we jumped through all of those legal hoops just to tie ourselves to you forever? That’s a lot of people actively caring about you, it’s your nightmare. I’m surprised you’re not running for the hills.”

Christ. He hadn’t thought of it that way. He had even had a conversation with Tom about the comfort of legally solidifying a relationship, but he had been thinking about his own comfort in reassuring himself that Ellie and the kids wanted to stay. He hadn’t even considered that they were going through with it all because they wanted _him._ He was silent for so long that Ellie laughed outright.

“I’ve sent you into a spiral, haven’t I?”

“No,” he choked out. “Just…hadn’ actually thought of it in those terms.”

“Of us loving you?”

“Of any o’ you…bein’ as desperate to keep me as I am to keep all o’ you.”

Ellie gave him such a doe-eyed look that he was forced to kiss her just as an excuse not to have to look at her.

“I love you,” she whispered, fingers slipping around the back of his neck, stroking the overgrown hair. She’d been nagging him to get a haircut for weeks, he really should book an appointment.

“Love you,” he murmured back, pressing his nose into her hair and inhaling deeply. “Mm.”

“What?”

“Nothin’. Just…waitin’ for you to ruin the moment.”

“I’m not going to ruin it." 

“You are.”

Ellie was silent for one long, blessed moment. “We’d better go to sleep. Freddie’s got his little Scout’s meeting tomorrow morning.”

“There it is.”

“ _Please_ wear the little shorts.”

He huffed, shaking her off of him and rolling away. “I am not wearin’ shorts.”

“Just the little stripey neckerchief, then! _Please_ , Alec!”


End file.
